


Overboard

by Xparrot



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Gen, Presumed Dead, Turtles, Typhoons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-02
Updated: 2004-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xparrot/pseuds/Xparrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A typhoon hits the Going Merry's crew harder than any of them could anticipate or accept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overboard

**Author's Note:**

> Set between Loguetown and Reverse Mountain. If the anime can fit an entire arc in there, then darn it, so can I.
> 
> I blame this on all the great writers out there who aren't writing me ridiculous One Piece angst, thus forcing me to write it myself.

The setting sun turned the smooth sea to plains of gold and scarlet. If one crossed enough of that expanse, eventually on the horizon the keen-eyed might spot a ship, cleaving through the waters with a sheep-shaped figurehead, broad sail emblazoned with a distinctive Jolly Roger just starting to gain notoriety around the world.

It was evening, and all was well on the Going Merry. Sanji did dishes, humming tunelessly, while Zoro took an after-dinner nap on the deck, the boards still warm from the sunny day. Usopp had been fishing but was presently distracted by the elaborate yarn he was spinning to an audience of sleepy seagulls, who seemed no more inclined to believe him than anyone on the ship. Luffy, sitting cross-legged on the sheep's wooden head, was the only one watching the gory shades of sunset spread across the sky.

Nami, poring over their maps, wrinkled her nose as she squinted at the tiny text in the sunset's dimming light. Shoving errant bangs out of her eyes, she looked up from the charts and rubbed her neck, glancing at their erstwhile captain on his perch, one hand clapped to his straw hat to keep the wind from blowing it off. She wondered if she should warn him not to stare directly at the sun, shrugged and decided it was a lost cause. "Sanji-kun," she called instead, "would you mind bringing me a lamp?"

"Right away, Nami-san!" Sanji caroled. Dishes and drawers clattered, and a moment later he was there, brightly burning lamp in hand. "Shall I hold it for you? Is this good?"

"Little higher, " she requested, gesturing until the circle of light was cast on the charts. "Great. Thank you." While Sanji stood as rigid as an iron lamppost to keep the light steady, she studied the illuminated text, making out the crabbed handwriting with difficulty. The man who had sold her these charts had sworn up the East Blue and down the South that they were true, but his cartographer apparently didn't believe in neatness to match the accuracy. She looked forward to producing a legible map of this area, but until she had seen for herself that this one could be believed she didn't want to spare the effort. If she were reading it correctly, however...

"Oi, Nami?" Luffy's tousled head dropped between lamp and chart, the rest of him hanging from one of the mandarin trees.

Before she could shove him out of the light, Sanji had whapped him with a ladle. "Off! You'll break the branches!"

"Eh, I haven't before," Luffy remarked, nimbly swinging down onto the table and bending his legs into a knot. "So what's on the map, Nami?"

"Not much," Nami said. "But this current—"

"Any islands? 'Cause Sanji was saying we're almost out of meat."

"How can we be out of meat? We stocked up with a month's worth!"

"Don't look at me, Nami-san—"

"I'm not, Sanji-kun," Nami assured him, glaring at their captain.

Luffy stared back, wide-eyed as always, idly tapping his sandal soles together. "It wasn't a month's worth. It's only been a week. What's the current?"

Nami, posed with her hand spread for smacking, paused and looked back down at the maps. "The current. Yes. We're on it now. It's called the Far North, and it flows directly down from the arctic. If you looked at the water today you'd have seen it's a different color—it's a lot colder, which is—"

"Not good for swimming?"

"You can't swim anyway," Sanji reminded Luffy, then eagerly continued, "But if it's a cold-water current, it might carry cold-water fish. A nice salmon—"

"As I was saying," Nami continued, and Sanji ducked his head apologetically, "the current's useful, because it's helping us along the route we want, but the temperature is a problem, since it brings a cold front with it."

She waited, but Luffy only cocked his head curiously, while Sanji was closed-mouth as a clam, hanging on her every word. Nami sighed and shook her head. "Cold front. Hitting tropical climate." They still were silent, so she spelled it out. "There's typhoons here. Big ones. A lot."

"Can't be as big as the one I saw," Usopp called from the stern. "I remember it like it was yesterday, there was this towering—wait, did you say typhoon? Here?"

Luffy laughed. "Ooh! A typhoon!"

Zoro cracked an eye open. "What the hell are you so excited about, moron? We've been through storms before."

"Eh? What about a storm?"

"The typhoon!"

"You mean it's not food?"

"That's tofu!!!"

"There probably isn't one coming now," Usopp remarked as he ambled over. "The gulls don't think so."

"Usopp, you talk to birds?"

"Of course! When I was still a baby, a finch flew in the window and perched on my cradle and told me I was to be—"

"He's right," Zoro said, getting up and stretching with spine-popping thoroughness. "The seagulls would've gotten out of here if a storm were coming."

"Oh. You mean like that?" Luffy inquired, pointing to the angular silhouettes of the birds diving through the navy sky, back the way they had come. A sharp, chill gust of wind blew the gulls on their way and ripped at the sails, the lines whipping and cracking against the cloth. Nami shivered, rubbing the sudden goosebumps on her bare arms.

"Here, Nami-san." Sanji draped his jacket over her shoulders.

"Thanks," Nami said distractedly, her eyes on the gulls. The first stars were beginning to twinkle behind them. Slowly she turned, peered past the bow at the horizon. The last glow of the sun shimmered on the waves, but the thick clouds gathering above them swallowed that light. "Guys," she said, and had to raise her voice over the sail flapping in the wind, "We should get ready for that storm..."

* * *

The rain started just as Zoro and Usopp were drawing the tarp over the mandarin grove. Usopp hurried around it, hammering in the pegs to secure it against the wind as fat drops splattered against the oiled cloth. Sanji and Luffy were finishing tying up the sails, while Nami fought to keep the Going Merry on an even keel. Zoro, ducking under a stray line, saw her brace herself to haul on the helm with all her weight, and the hull creaked as they slowly turned into the wind.

The Going Merry tilted wildly as a wave rocked them; Nami yelped a curse as she slipped and fell, and the helm tore out of her hands. Zoro swore, too, and lunged for it, grabbing the stick with both hands and wrenching it back, his arms straining. Nami picked herself up off the floor, balancing against the rocking as she wrung water from her shirt—a futile effort, as the wind dashed what felt like buckets of rain through the door to match the ocean's spray. Shoulders hunched under Sanji's jacket against the piercing drops, she pushed Zoro out of the way and took firm hold of the helm. "I've got it," she yelled over the shrieking wind. "Help Sanji and Luffy!"

Back on deck, Zoro could just barely make them out through the rain and darkness, Sanji precariously hanging on the mast, trying to secure the sails with his blond hair whipping in his eyes, while Luffy below held the lowered boom still. The rope had snapped, its unraveling ends whipping in the wind, so Luffy had braced it by wrapping a rubber leg around the quarterdeck rail and his arms around the wooden shaft. But as the wind caught the bundled sails it slammed the boom back, and Luffy stretched with it, protesting with a high-pitched, "Stop stop stop!!"

And that was why tackle wasn't made of elastic. Zoro put his back to the wooden beam and shoved, swinging the boom back in place and restoring Luffy to some semblance of a normal shape. "Thank you!" Luffy hollered.

"Go get more rope!" Zoro shouted back, fighting to find purchase on the water-slick boards. The deck dipped, leveled again as the sea drew back, calm before the worst of the storm. "I can't hold this!"

He saw the wave coming, a giant slope of water sliding toward them with deceptive pace, and braced himself.

Only to lose his footing entirely when the ship rocked crazily in the opposite direction, bouncing up as if it had been served like a volley ball and crashing down again into the stormy waters. His feet slid out from under him, sending him thudding to the deck with a splash, and the boom swooped over his head like a massive scythe.

"What was that!!?" he heard Nami shriek, beating him to it. Above him Sanji shouted something he couldn't understand, clinging to the mast for dear life. Then Luffy's elongated arms shot past him, grabbing the boom and using the rubber rebound to haul it back.

"INCOMING!" Sanji's cry resolved into words, and Zoro, scrambling up, whirled around to see the tsunami upon them.

"Wow!" Luffy shouted, staring up at the rippling black mountain of water tumbling toward them.

Zoro had just enough time to grab the stray end of the line formerly securing the boom, and the wave crashed down, a wall of water sweeping over them. He squeezed his eyes shut and locked his fists around the rope, as the water pounded and tore at him like a deranged liquid lion.

Then the wave had passed, leaving the quarterdeck puddled with seawater.

And entirely Luffy-free.

"Luffy!!" Zoro bellowed, and charged for the rail, staring through the night at the dark, roiling sea. So intent was he on those swirling waves that he didn't notice the boom, released from Luffy's grasp, swinging around, until the moment it connected with the back of his head.

It would have been all right if he had been braced for it; it would have been better still if that hadn't been the exact spot where that damn bounty hunter with the chain mace had tried to crack open his skull last week. _Shit_ , he thought as light exploded in the darkness, _that **hurts** —_

* * *

He was dreaming, a wild sort of nightmare, loud with howling wind, cold and dark but for a slice of yellow light, swinging back and forth like a slashing sword. He tried to grab it, but the light passed through his fingers.

He heard voices, but they were as hard to grasp as the light, comprehension slipping in and out of focus so that he only got fragments through the noise. "Dammit, Sanji—" "He's not—" "breathe, please, just—"

The lamp swung away to cast its gold on a tableau just out of reach. There was Sanji, lying on the cabin floor, and Nami, of all things, was bent over him, lips pressed to his. Definitely a dream. Especially since Sanji didn't look happy about this turn of events, lying still with his eyes closed and his face so pale it was gray even in the golden light. One would think he would be slightly more interested in Nami's kiss. Maybe the way Usopp was beating on his chest was dampening his enthusiasm. Or how Nami seemed to be crying. But that could just be the rain, though only her cheeks were wet.

The light swung back toward him, throwing them into shadow, so except for their voices they might not be there at all. Something clattered behind him, and then wind ripped into the room, pelting him with rain and extinguishing the lamp, plunging everything back into the void.

* * *

He still couldn't see a damned thing, but gradually he realized he could again make sense of the voices he was hearing, when he tried. The wind was muted, and there was something scratchy weighing him down. A blanket, he realized, and since it was also keeping him warm he decided not to throw it off.

"If I'd gone in right away—"

"Then you and Sanji both might've—"

"But I should've tried, I should've done something—"

"You did, Usopp. If you hadn't gotten Sanji, he would have drowned, t-too."

"He'll be all right, Nami. He's warming up now, he's gonna be fine. No lie."

It's more convincing if you sound like you believe it yourself, idiot, Zoro would have muttered, though who was he to give advice to the champion liar? Besides, when he tried to speak his tongue got tangled up in the words and what came out sounded more like a groan than sarcasm.

"Zoro?" Nami's voice, but it was strangely unsteady. One of her hands wrapped around his, squeezing his fingers. "Zoro, you're awake? Thank goodness..."

"Mmm." He would have been more inclined to agree if his stomach hadn't been heaving like the stormy waves outside. Seasickness was a new and unwelcome experience. With effort he quashed that annoyance, drew in enough air to mumble, "'m fine."

He tried to sit up, but in the darkness couldn't tell if he were managing it, and besides Nami was pushing him flat again—and when the hell had she gotten so strong? "No, you just keep lying down—you got banged pretty hard there. The storm's dying down, and Usopp and I have things covered. Everything's—everything's fine."

Something about what she was saying didn't quite make sense, but he couldn't put together what was wrong. Nami's slender fingers were crushing his own between them, almost painfully. "So you just take it easy, okay, Zoro?"

There was a forced calm in her voice that made him think if he could see her eyes, he might find that look in them, that same drawn, haunted anger he had seen there in Arlong Park. He strained to see, but could make out nothing. "Why's it so damn dark?"

"The lamp blew out," Nami said, "and we can't find any dry matches to relight it."

Well, at least it wasn't from the clout to the head. Going blind would have made becoming the world's greatest swordsman slightly more difficult. "Ask Sanji. He's always got a light."

He heard a strange, high giggle, but Nami still sounded calm when she replied, "That's a good idea. We'll ask him."

The wind's howling outside picked up and then fell away, so he could hear the waves crashing against the hull, but not anywhere near as fierce as they had been. And Nami said it was passing. She was good at reading storms; he could believe her in that. If only there were light, so he could see for himself..."If everything's okay..."

"You take it easy," she said again. For a moment her hand rested across his forehead, a touch light as a moth's, and then it withdrew.

The storm was ending, the ship was still afloat, there was nothing to fight. He closed his eyes, was drifting off when he realized what had been bothering him. "...Where's Luffy, anyway?"

But he was asleep before he heard Nami's reply.

* * *

Third time's the charm. It was light when Zoro awoke again. From the way his head was pounding, he must have drunk an awful damn lot the night before. Enough that he couldn't remember any of it. Well, that was no fun.

He put his hand to his head as he sat up, and felt cloth, a bandage wrapped around the back of his head that rewarded his touch with a lance of pain through his skull. Wincing, he made a mental note not to do that again. What was that, anyway, felt like he had been whacked with a baseball bat—

No, the boom. Zoro groaned as he slumped back, gingerly until he ascertained there was a pillow to drop his head on. Stupid storm; stupid ship, beating up her crew. You didn't expect blows from what was supposed to be an ally.

The sunlight gleaming in the bottom of the eastern window proved it was much too early in the morning to be up, but those rays were more welcome than storm clouds. The sea was still choppy, rocking the ship back and forth, unless his head hadn't quite settled yet. He was considering going back to sleep until it had, when he realized his swords weren't at his side.

Rolling over, he reached down his arm and felt the floor below, a rug, even, but no scabbards. He tried sitting up again, more carefully this time, and scanned the cabin, spotting three things amiss. The first were his three swords, laying haphazard in one corner as if they had simply been discarded there.

The second was that this was, in fact, Nami's cabin, and Zoro was lying on her largest chest, converted to a makeshift cot with a bundle of blankets and pillows. Which might have surprised him, if he hadn't been entirely distracted by Sanji. Asleep. In Nami's bed.

After staring for several moments, a bit of memory trickled in. Nami kissing Sanji...no, that had been a dream.

Either that, or along with the storm there had been one hell of a party after all.

Shame he couldn't remember it, in that case.

"Oi, Sanji."

Sanji didn't move. Actually, Zoro reflected, odd as his location was, it was nearly as odd that the cook was still asleep. While Zoro was usually the last to arise, he was pretty sure Sanji was the first of them up most mornings. He had to be, considering all the times he had served Nami breakfast in bed, or at least attempted to. She could be unforgiving about intrusions to her domicile too early, and loud about it, which was why Zoro knew at all. Though even otherwise, when he thought it over, Zoro couldn't recall ever waking up before the cook.

"Hey, Sanji, isn't it time for breakfast yet?"

At that, Sanji came awake with a jerk, his eyes snapping open to study Zoro with sleep-dazed incomprehension.

Then he inhaled sharply, and Zoro could have sworn that his face, which was already on the wan side, went even whiter. The blankets piled on top of him heaved up as he rolled over and pulled them closer around himself, until all Zoro could see of the cook were a few strands of blond hair.

Frowning, the swordsman slid his feet onto the floor and stood. Testing his balance and finding it adequate—that spinning could very well be the ship turning with the waves—he began to cross to his swords, when the door swung open and Usopp barged in, stopping short before Zoro. "Oh, you're up!" he said brightly.

Zoro didn't bother dignifying that with a reply. He took two more steps and then found Usopp between him and his objective.

"You're still looking a bit peaked," Usopp observed. "Maybe you should sleep a little more?"

"Take a piss, breakfast, then nap," Zoro explained. Swords first of all, but that went without saying. He didn't do anything without a blade or three on hand. He was uneasy enough without them now, even though they were in plain sight.

"I can get you breakfast," Usopp said, "I just finished making—"

"The hell are you cooking for?"

"Because—" Usopp's eyes slid to the bed and Sanji buried there, then skipped back to Zoro, and the swordsman could almost see the lie falling in place over them, like a special pair of goggles. "I have this wonderful recipe I've always wanted to try, and since Sanji's sleeping in, I thought it was the perfect chance for the Tuna and Eggs Supreme taught to me by—"

"Hey."

His crewmate jumped, several inches at least.

"Get out of my way."

"A-ah—of course." Usopp hastily ducked aside, so Zoro could go and retrieve his swords. Crouching didn't significantly increase his dizziness, and the weight of the weapons hanging from his belt was a better painkiller than any healer's potion. But when he started for the door, Usopp was there again, looking inexplicably more nervous than usual.

"What?" Zoro asked him, genuinely puzzled.

"You—why don't you wait here I'll bring you breakfast will be great okay?" Usopp babbled, the words running together into a mess.

"Usopp."

"Yes?" he squeaked, and Zoro was surprised to see his glance dart nervously to the sheathed swords.

"Nami probably doesn't want me in here any longer than necessary," Zoro pointed out. In fact the thought was making him a bit nervous himself.

"She won't mind," Usopp hastened to assure. "One of the windows gave way in the main cabin, it's a mess. And Sanji needed to be warm—well, Nami's busy plotting our course anyway, we should get out of here before another storm comes, but—" He shut himself up abruptly.

"But?" It was quiet with the cessation of Usopp's chatter. He could hear the creaking of the frame and the waves splashing against the hull, and outside the door the shrieks of gulls, returned already from the storm. He was used to waking to the sounds of clattering pots and pans, but Sanji was still in bed. Nami was probably sunning on the deck as she went over the charts, and Luffy would be on the figurehead, if he wasn't looking for land in the crow's nest or raiding the icebox—

Something nagged at him, like a bug bite he couldn't scratch because he couldn't figure out where he had been bitten. And Usopp had backed against the door as if he were trying to barricade it with his skinny frame.

He was sure it would all make sense if his head weren't killing him. Food would help. Coffee. Though without Sanji in the kitchen that wasn't as appealing; annoying as their cook could be, he was the one man Zoro had ever met who could brew a decent pot at sea.

Reaching for the doorknob, his hand was bumped aside by Usopp, in what could have been an accident, given Usopp's hasty apology, except that his crewmate followed it up with, "I'll get you breakfast, no big deal, you're probably still tired you could—"

Torn between irritation and bafflement, Zoro blinked at him. "Are you actually trying to stop me from going out?"

"No, no! Well. Maybe. Only—"

It wasn't that Usopp was deliberately opposing him, though usually the man had a healthy respect for his swords. But there was a falseness to his hyperactivity that Zoro couldn't recall seeing before. For all his lies, Usopp was terrible at concealing his cowardice, even though he could be counted on in a pinch. But his nervousness now seemed as great a lie as any of the fibs he regularly churned out, as if he were only pretending for Zoro's sake.

Taking Usopp's arm, he pulled his crewmate out of his way, not overly roughly. "First Sanji, now you. What are you doing? Has everyone on this boat gone crazy?"

"I—no." Usopp's mobile face went still. Even his long nose seemed to be drooping. "Not everyone..."

"I asked him to." Before Zoro could turn the handle, the door swung open and Nami entered. "You shouldn't be up unless you're better. How's your head?"

"The head's fine." As long as he didn't move too quickly or look toward the light or touch the bump, the dull roar was tolerable. "I just want breakfast."

"Zoro..." Standing in the doorway with her shoulders curled in like that, Nami looked unnaturally small, dwarfed by the ship's solid wood beams, and her hands were clasped at her waist, something clutched between them.

Zoro frowned at her. Whatever was wrong was wrong here as well. With her head canted down he couldn't see her expression, but he remembered her voice last night, could hear that same darkness in it now, a stillness as dangerous as the Calm Belt's placidity. And in her hands...

It occurred to him, unexpectedly, that there was something else amiss, when he thought back to the previous night. As a swordsman his instincts were always active; asleep, unconscious, or dead drunk, he was still aware to some degree what was happening around him, who was there, if they presented a danger. There was one presence, however, which he rarely if ever bothered to acknowledge, because it was no threat to him, a presence that allowed him to relax, even to let that alertness subside for a bit, knowing it was safe to do so.

Luffy was almost never there when he revived from an injury; Luffy trusted him to survive a fight intact. But there would always be the knowledge that he had been around, a lingering sense memory when he awoke, of his captain's voice needling a doctor or teasing him, or the odd weight of his silent observation.

But when Zoro cast his mind back now, to last night's haze and darkness, there was nothing.

And Nami held a battered, round straw hat, crumpling the brim in her tight grip.

"Why do you have that?" Zoro asked. Subliminally he registered Usopp taking a step back, didn't question it. He didn't recognize his own voice, quite; it sounded harder than he intended, for all it was quiet. "Why are you holding that, Nami?"

Nami's head came up. The darkness he was expecting in her eyes would not have been nearly as bad as the blankness he saw there now. "It floats," she said, simply, as if she were explaining to a child.

"I know it floats," Zoro snapped. It was the only part of Luffy that did—

"It floated by this morning. Right off the port side. I got it with Usopp's fishing rod. Isn't that lucky? I thought it was...lost in the storm."

"Why the hell do you have it?" He grabbed her shoulders—her arms were so thin his hands wrapped all the way around her biceps, and the bones underneath could be snapped like matchsticks—and gave her a shake. "It's not yours, why—"

Nami wrenched away, a sharp twist to free herself, steadying herself with a little stagger. Then Usopp pushed between her and Zoro, his hands raised placatingly. "We shouldn't—"

"He went overboard in the typhoon," Nami said. "Luffy. You don't remember, do you, Zoro. Right before you were hit, after the ship lurched. That big wave washed him over."

"And that's how he lost it?" Zoro demanded. "That's how he lost his hat—"

"Sanji-kun's the only one who saw him go over—and you, probably. I didn't see any of it, in the rain, and Usopp only saw you get knocked down, and by the time he had dragged you into the cabin..."

"My fault."

When they looked back, Sanji had sat up in the bed, hunched over with the blankets drawn around his shoulders. His cheeks were so pallid they seemed blue, blond hair dark against his white skin. "It was my fault," he said hoarsely.

"No, Sanji-kun," Nami said, impatiently flicking something from her eye. "It wasn't."

"What kind of idiot things are you talking about?" Zoro snapped. "Luffy's gone overboard before. He pulls himself out, or one of us gets him. The guy's a hammer, but he doesn't sink so fast—"

"Zoro, you saw the typhoon!" Nami's cool shattered like crystal dropped on stone, her voice rising almost to a shriek. "You saw those waves—the way we were getting tossed about, by the time he hit the water we were fifty feet away, and he might've splashed down so hard he—he couldn't...he didn't..." Like a kettle running out of steam she trailed into silence.

In the following quiet, Zoro couldn't hear himself breathe. The waves lapping against the hull were like blows; he could feel the ship rock as each one hit. "You mean he's not—you let him—why didn't you go after him?"

"What do you think happened to Sanji-kun?" Nami cried.

"He's right, Nami-san." Sanji's voice was ragged, raspy. "He's right, I should've—"

"Damn straight you should've!"

"Should have what, Sanji-kun? Should have—drowned—" Nami suddenly spun away on her heel, slammed her palms against the wall and dropped her head down between her braced arms. Zoro could see her shoulders quivering, saw her suck in her breath to stop them. The straw hat hung before her, brim caught under her fingers.

"Nami-san—" Sanji sounded mortified. The mattress springs creaked as he struggled out of the enfolding blankets, but before he could rise Usopp had stopped him. "You're supposed to be resting," he murmured to the cook. "At least until you're some color other than gray."

Zoro stared at them, turned back to scowl at Nami's back. "What the hell is wrong with all of you?" he asked, and heard the words come like he was drawing one of his swords, measured and deadly. "You're acting like the guy's gone."

Ironically, Usopp was the first to dare cross that blade. "He went overboard, Zoro. Into the sea. The typhoon—"

"It was just a damn storm," Zoro growled. "Some wind, some rain. That's all." Reaching out, he took Nami's shoulder. She still was trembling a little, and he tightened his hand until he felt her stiffen, gathering herself. Giving her a little shake, he said, "Don't. This is Luffy we're talking about. This is the guy who beat Arlong, right?"

He looked back at Usopp and Sanji, and grinned, fierce as he would in a fight. "Don Krieg couldn't take him. That Captain Kuro bastard was nothing. And how many platoons of marines has he smashed? Come on. You really think a little wind and a couple waves stopped the man who'll be the Pirate King?"

Usopp's eyes widened. "But—but how—"

"How the hell should I know? I don't get half the things that happen around that guy. But you were there in Loguetown, Sanji. You saw what happened on the execution platform."

A little color came into the cook's blanched face. "That..."

Nami lowered her arms slowly, the hat still in her hands, but she didn't turn around, her auburn head still down. "There's no islands for miles," she said dully. "There was no other ship that might have picked him up. We didn't even lose a board or a barrel. And the typhoon—"

"I'm telling you, the typhoon doesn't matter. The sea, it's nothing."

"Maybe there was a floating island!" Usopp cried. "Or one of those flying ships people have said they've seen, the ones shaped like saucers. There could be anything!"

"But—" Nami looked at her crewmates, spread her hands in confusion. "How is it..."

"It's possible, Nami-san," Sanji said, his hoarse voice barely carrying across the room. "It's got to be possible, right?"

"What should we do, Zoro?" Usopp asked expectantly. "If it was something crazy—"

"We go back." Zoro shrugged. "We look around until we figure it out."

"Figure _what_ out?" Nami inquired, but not angrily. With her head raised, he could see the glimmer of something in her eyes, more than the reflection of the sunlight.

"No idea," he answered. "We'll know when we find him." Faint as that glimmer was, he recognized it. Since he had started traveling with Luffy, he had become familiar with all the different shades of hope.

* * *

They soon had the Going Merry turned around, heading back along their prior route. The storm hadn't blown them too far off course, so with the wind on their side they would return to where the storm had first hit before sunset. Back in the Far North, the danger of typhoons was present again, but Nami made no mention of it, and Usopp, though he kept glancing at the sky, said nothing.

While Nami kept watch in the crow's nest and Usopp retreated below deck to check for storm damage, Zoro stood on the bow, looking out over the figurehead at the spray tossed up by the rushing water. The ocean mirrored the azure sky, scattered with white clouds but no sign of another storm. On another day, he would have stretched out on the deck and grabbed a few winks under the sun, but now he watched the sea flowing past under them. He noticed what Nami had mentioned before, the change in color as they reentered the current, the colder water a darker, purer blue. Gulls soared and swooped around them, calling shrilly, and he spotted a pod of porpoises in the distance.

He probably wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway, even though his head was still aching. The ship was too damn quiet. He was used to noise, Usopp's prattling and Sanji offering snacks, Nami asking for some favor or other and Luffy goofing off. But Nami wasn't shouting anything down from her look-out, and Usopp only came up to fetch tools in silence. Lunchtime came and went and the ship continued to plow through the waves; Zoro frowned when his stomach growled, recalled he had never gotten breakfast after all. He thought he had smelled something cooking but hadn't gone to investigate. He didn't look away from the blue water now, elbows on the rail and cool spray on his face.

The orange sun was a couple hands' breadths above the horizon when Nami, after peering through one of her instruments and comparing the angle of the sun, announced, "We're here." She tipped the helm and called for Usopp to loosen the sails, putting them in a wide, slow circle on the flat sea. Then she joined Zoro on the bow, leaning on the rail on the opposite side of the figurehead. "The map is pretty detailed," she said quietly, hiding her hands in the long sleeves of her windbreaker. "Even for someone who could swim, there'll be no rocks or anything to go to; the ocean floor's a thousand fathoms beneath us."

Zoro lifted his shoulders, let them drop. "So?"

Usopp's boots clopped on the deck as he jumped down from the mast. "I didn't see anything out there," he said, flipping up his goggles and shaking his head. "The water's calm all around. —Of course that doesn't mean nothing," he added with a hasty chuckle. "Especially if it were a flying ship—"

"Oh, shut up about that ship!" Nami snapped, and then shut her own mouth fast enough to bite off her tongue.

Zoro eyed them while the pause stretched into yet more uncomfortable silence, thinking that this was just about the time Luffy would pop up with something entirely inane to add to the conversation and bridge this gap. That his absence was the cause of this division would have been an amusing irony, if it hadn't been so damned annoying.

"Sorry," Usopp mumbled at last, staring down at his boots.

"I'm sorry," Nami said in return, almost under her breath, and Zoro noiselessly sighed in relief. Swordmastery was good for cutting things apart, not so much for mending.

"We'll keep looking around until sunset, then drop anchor. Probably won't be able to find anything in the dark," he said.

"Even if it's not dark," Nami began, then stopped and looked behind them. Zoro heard the cabin door creak open, and Sanji emerged, neatly attired in his usual suit but still too pale and looking not quite certain on his feet, for all that his sea legs were the most confident of any of them.

"Sanji-kun," Nami said, hurrying over.

"I'm fine, Nami-san," Sanji assured her. He let her take his arm, but then, Zoro would have been more concerned if he had refused. "It's about time to start dinner."

"That's okay," Nami said. "We'll handle that for tonight."

"I was already planning—"

"It's okay, Sanji," Usopp chimed in. "There's some leftovers, right? That'll be fine. We won't need as much as we usually..." He gulped, halting midsentence and midstep, frozen on the deck.

"Actually, Sanji-kun," Nami said, with such delicate sincerity that Zoro's hair would have curled, had it been long enough, "there's a big favor you could do for me. The storm threw all my papers and charts around in my desk; if you could get it back in order for me as soon as possible, that would be wonderful."

"Neaten your desk? Of course, Nami-san! I'll organize it with all my heart!" With a fair approximation of his usual zeal, Sanji disappeared back inside the cabin.

Nami shut the door behind him. "Maybe reading some of those papers will put him to sleep. Works for me."

Zoro eyed her askance. "Why're you worrying? He's not made of glass. He's been battered by worse than a storm." When Nami didn't reply, he frowned. "What happened to Sanji?"

Nami returned to the railing, gazed down at the water. "He tried," she said. "Sanji-kun saw Luffy go over, he dove off the mast after him. By the time Usopp and I figured out what was going on—the water was wild in the typhoon, and it was so dark, I don't even know how you could tell which way the surface was, under it. Sanji-kun would come up, and then go down again, every time for longer. He went as deep as he could dive, he wasn't even thinking about how much air he'd need to swim back up."

Her voice had dropped, until it was almost too low to hear. "There was the current, too, it was pulling him away, and it's cold, Zoro. You can feel it on the ship, how the breeze is chilly—it's supposed to be tropical around here, but that water's only just above freezing. If we were any further north there'd be icebergs. We lost sight of Sanji-kun altogether, and then Usopp somehow spotted him off the stern—I was at the helm, I could barely keep us turned into the wind so it wouldn't tear us apart, and there's no way we could've gone back. But Usopp just threw himself over the rail and started swimming, even though the waves were big enough to smash—"

"Don't say it like that," Usopp said, raising his eyes from deck, his brows drawn down and angry. "I'd tied a rope around me, don't make it sound like it was something heroic. If I hadn't reached him when the rope ran out I'd have swum back, it was just lucky he got washed close enough for me to grab him. I didn't even know what was going on at first, and by the time I figured out Luffy was gone, I couldn't do anything."

"You saved Sanji-kun," Nami said. "If it had been any longer—he wasn't breathing, when I pulled them up. He was freezing, and he wasn't breathing, and I thought he wasn't going to start again, it took so long. When he finally did, he wouldn't wake up, and he still felt like ice, it took forever for him to warm up. And he won't tell me now, but I'm pretty sure he cracked a couple ribs. You guys pretend nothing hurts you, but you're human, after all. You can't just walk away from everything.

"If he blames himself, if you do anything to make Sanji-kun think he could've done more, so help me, Zoro... You didn't see how close it was. We might have lost—both—"

"But we didn't," Zoro said, flatly. "We didn't lose anyone." He turned to watch the red sun slip into the sea, edging the clouds above in scarlet and lilac. He had slept through yesterday's sunset; in passing he wondered if it had been as beautiful as this one.

He could feel Nami readying a response, braced to strike him, though from her stance it would be with words, not her hand. But at the last minute she pulled back, shook her head and walked away.

Dinner was as unnaturally quiet as the rest of the day. Sanji's leftovers were better than most cooks' seven course meals, but the way the others chewed they might have been eating boiled leather with a mud garnish. Halfway through, Zoro took his bowl and returned to the bow. It was getting dark, but if there were anything to see he didn't want to miss it.

Much later, when the stars behind the thin veil of fog gleamed on the shimmering water, and the half moon was nearly set, he climbed up to the crow's nest. As he suspected, Usopp was snoring, head propped up on his folded arms. Zoro nudged him with a sheath; his crewmate awoke with a start as his chin slid off its support and bumped the rail. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, mumbled, "Up, I'm up, was just exercising my eyelids—"

"Go sleep," Zoro told him. "I'll take over."

Usopp nodded, yawning. "Want me to spell you in a couple hours?"

"I'll be okay." He had slept plenty the night before, while he suspected Usopp and Nami had gotten none. She had retired to her cabin already, after seeing that Sanji was settled for the night. Though the blond might protest he needed no coddling, he wouldn't dream of getting up from the bed—or hammock, as it were—that Nami-san had tucked him into. Ridiculous though she was being about it, Zoro had to admit he preferred Sanji to look a little less drawn. It gave him a starved look that was unseemly in a cook.

"Zoro." Usopp had paused on the first step of the ladder, his head a dark silhouette against the stars. "I haven't seen anything—not that that means anything. But we might...eventually...if there's nothing..."

Zoro settled himself on the rail, adjusting his swords so they wouldn't bang against the mast. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to think about it either," Usopp said, "but even I can't run away forever."

"No one's running from anything," Zoro said, irritably, shifting so that his hand came to rest on the hilt of his white sword.

Usopp's laugh had that same false nervousness that had grated that morning. "No, of course not, no," he blathered, and made his escape down the ladder, calling back up, "'Night, Zoro."

Zoro grunted a reply that probably went unheard over the wind, leaned back and crossed his arms, staring across the dark expanse of the empty ocean.

* * *

As unfamiliar as silence was, Zoro decided by midmorning, almost silence was even more aggravating.

He was accustomed to whispers—not with the crew, but in towns where his three swords and haramaki were recognized, he often heard mutters and mumbles behind his back, stifled should he turn their way. On the Going Merry, however, he wasn't used to such caution; certainly no one cared if they disturbed his repose, regardless of his reputation. It wasn't like they weren't all sailing with one of the most wanted men in the East Blue. But Nami had joined Usopp on the lower decks in the morning, and then both of them had followed Sanji into the kitchen, where he was making sure nothing too terrible had occurred without his attendance. Zoro had heard the low murmur of their voices for an hour now, but never loud enough to make out more than a word here and there.

He didn't bother thinking about it, until he heard Usopp say, more distinctly since he was by the open window, "Cocoyashi", and the name of Nami's hometown should not have disturbed him as much as it did.

When he entered the mess, his crewmates' heads all came up, mouths snapping shut, with their expressions bizarrely guilty. "Shouldn't you be keeping watch?" he asked Usopp, who ducked his head; then he looked to Nami, "And what about navigation?"

She didn't flinch. "The wind's even and we're on a steady course. It's not like we're going anywhere as it is."

"Where should we be going?"

Nami stood to face him. Even in heels the top of her head only came up to his ear, but she angled her chin so that she appeared to be staring down at him. "We're going to have to decide that sooner or later, aren't we?"

"What's to decide?" Zoro could see Usopp shrinking back minutely, could see Sanji twitch as he readied himself to defend Nami. As if she needed defense. "We're going to the Grand Line, aren't we?"

"Are we?"

"Luffy—"

"Isn't here, Zoro. There's no sign of him and we can't just keep sailing in circles forever—"

"Just until we find something," Zoro said. "And if we don't—we keep going to the Grand Line. He'll know to find us there." Even Luffy couldn't miss the Grand Line. Once on it...well, they would work something out.

His head was still aching a little, a dull throbbing. The brightness of the sun when he went back out on the deck didn't help that any. Shading his eyes with one hand, he returned to watching the sea.

The others remained inside. Bits and pieces of quiet conversation sounded across the waves, but there were long lulls of nothing, save the rattling of Sanji's pots and utensils as he threw himself back into his cooking. Usopp eventually climbed up to the crow's nest, but shouted down no reports of anything, and Zoro himself saw nothing across the water but the steep undulation of the waves.

Come on, Luffy, he berated his absent captain. We don't have the time for this. You're not the only one after the One Piece, after all; who knows who might find it first, if they didn't get moving? There were a lot of damn powerful people on the Grand Line already.

Besides, the rest of the crew misses you. Ships needed navigators and mechanics and cooks to sail, but without a captain there wasn't a crew at all, just people on a boat.

Odd how Luffy, who could get lost walking a straight line, was the only one who really understood where they were going—not that he knew the way, but without him everyone seemed to be forgetting the destination.

Just get back soon, Zoro silently insisted. Before we're all lost.

* * *

The mess smelled strongly of tobacco that evening, even with the sea breeze blowing through the open window. Sanji was usually careful about his cigarette supply, hoarding what he had unless he was certain the next island they came to would have a shop, but he was shaking out the last of a pack when Zoro entered.

"Don't tell Nami-san," the cook requested, glancing in his direction. "She asked me to cut down a little."

Which only made sense, considering what nearly drowning must do to your lungs, but Sanji could take care of himself. "You might want to get rid of those, then," Zoro remarked, nodding to the two emptied packs already on the counter by the cutting board. Sanji swept them into the trash with a quick wave of his arm, a magic trick performed only just in time before Nami entered, Usopp behind her. If she gave Sanji a furtive look of concern, it was quick enough that by the time the cook turned back around she was seating herself at the table, seemingly intent on the place settings. Simpler than Sanji's usual, for all he had been in here puttering all day, just bowls and spoons, and a steaming tureen of soup in the middle of the table.

"Vegetable curry noodles tonight," Sanji announced, as he began serving. The tureen looked far too tiny compared to their normal fare, but he filled the four bowls with plenty to spare.

"Thank you, Sanji-kun," Nami nodded politely, and took a bite.

If Zoro hadn't been looking at her, he would have missed the expression which crossed her face before she swallowed. He frowned. That was not the usual look of delight when one was eating Sanji's meals.

Usopp piled in a couple spoonfuls, then gulped and grimaced, reaching for his tankard. "Kinda salty, isn't it?"

Sanji's head jerked up from where he had been contemplating the grain of the wooden tabletop. "What?"

"I mean, er—it's just, I'm not used to curry—" Usopp backpedaled rapidly under Sanji's eye, but the blond's stare wasn't anger.

Zoro took a taste, set down his spoon. "What the hell, cook, did you forget where your ashtray was?" Which maybe was a little harsh; he had eaten much worse at reputable restaurants, but they had standards, and anyone's palate would go gourmet after a few days of Sanji's cooking—except Luffy's, who appreciated any food, not to mention quite a bit that wasn't considered edible by most standards.

Nami's heel came down onto his foot, hard enough that his teeth clenched, only just missing his tongue. "It's fine, Sanji-kun," she said with a smile that was almost convincing.

But Sanji was already tasting it for himself, spit his mouthful out with an expression of horror that would have been funny if he hadn't gone white as he had been yesterday morning. "I'm sorry, Nami-san," he said, bowing his head as if he were apologizing for murdering her sister.

"Sanji-kun, it's all right—"

"It's not," Sanji said, flatly, but the lack of emotion in that monotone was belied when he kicked up, sharply, flipping the table into the air. The soup went flying, bowls smashing to shards, and the metal tureen thudded upside down among the wreckage, spattering noodles across the floorboards. The other three, barely springing back in time as the table crashed down over it all, gaped at the mess, and then at the cook.

Sanji seemed the most surprised of any of them, his mouth open in shock, panting for breath as if he had been fighting. At last he straightened up, adjusting the collar of his pinstripe shirt. "The old fart would never let me get away with serving that kind of slop," he said steadily.

"I thought Zeff didn't like food to be wasted, either," Usopp murmured, lifting up his foot to shake off the noodles adhering to his boot.

There was a roaring in Zoro's ears, like the thunder of the sea in the storm. "You're not cooking for Zeff," he said. "This is the Going Merry, not that damn restaurant."

"But when I go back to Baratie—"

"Why would you be going back?" They were all staring at him now instead of Sanji. "We're staying here until we find Luffy, and then we're going to the Grand Line."

"The longer we stay here," Nami said, "the higher the chances are we'll be hit by another typhoon. I don't know if the ship can handle it—we're still damaged, aren't we, Usopp?"

The long-nosed man nodded. "I've patched everything up, but it'd be easier to make repairs if we were anchored."

"There's an island about a day from here, if we make good time. We should start heading there tonight. And once the Going Merry's fixed, we can all decide—"

"There is nothing to decide," Zoro stated. Luffy was their captain; the decisions ultimately were his. Until they found him there were none to be made.

So why were they all gawking at him now like he was the crazy one?

He realized that somewhere along the line his hand had come to rest on the sword hilts at his belt. There was reassurance in the solid reality of the metal and polished wood grips, counter to the doubtful uncertainty in his crewmates' expressions. Steel couldn't betray, not like a living person could.

"We're staying here," he said. "I'm going back on deck to search." As he did. If there were whispers behind him, they mattered no more than the wash of the waves against the hull.

* * *

They held a council of war the next morning, the three sane of them left. Well, himself and Nami-san; Sanji was never quite sure about Usopp, but they needed to stick together. They met in the bilges, where Zoro on the bow would be unlikely to hear, and if that damp environment was unsuited to Nami-san's grace, she said nothing of it, and looked at him as if he had grown a second head when he offered to spread his coat over the puddles.

Usopp measured the several inches of water on the floor, shook his head as he stood as well as he was able in the cramped quarters. "We're not taking it in fast, but we're taking it in," he said. "I can't find the leaks like this, we need to be anchored on calm water."

"I tried talking to him again this morning." Nami's fists clenched. "He won't listen."

"He could be right, you know," Usopp said quietly. "It's Luffy we're talking about."

"Just because he's so sure—just because we want him to be right, more than anything—doesn't mean he is." In the candlelight Nami's hair shone red-gold, a burnished copper curtain over her eyes. "Even forgetting about another typhoon—we can't keep doing this. Pretending like this. Or else what's going to happen when we have to face the truth?"

Sanji felt that question like the words pierced his heart, and it wasn't because they were spoken in Nami's exquisite voice. It hurt, as much as the gasp he wasn't quite able to stifle, which sent a pang from his cracked rib shooting through his chest. He covered his wince as fast as he was able. Nami-san didn't need to be worrying about him; Zoro was already worrying her enough. Her anger with the swordsman and his ludicrous stubbornness wasn't quite able to hide her concern. The jerk had no right to do this to her. Or any of them.

Luffy had no right to do this to them. Sanji had already vowed to stamp their captain's rubber face into the deck, when they found him, for making Nami-san cry—he hadn't seen the tears, but he remembered hearing them, that first night. Half-conscious, he hadn't been able to do anything about it then, and she hadn't cried since. Unless it was at night, alone in her cabin. He hoped not. A beautiful woman shouldn't cry at all, but certainly not alone.

And not over Luffy, who, even if he had gone overboard, could not possibly have the temerity to...not when he had gotten them all together, and dragged them this far, not so close to the Grand Line...

With his hands shaking as they were it took him a couple tries to light his cigarette, but before he could inhale Nami had plucked it from his lips and dropped it into the water at their feet. "You already had one this morning, Sanji-kun," she reminded him. "Please go easy on them."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, having sincerely forgotten. Putting his hands in the pockets of his slacks to avoid the temptation of the cigarette pack crinkling in his breast pocket, he said, "Why are we staying, then, Nami-san, if you think it's better we go to an island?"

"Zoro won't agree," Usopp said. He glanced at Nami. "We already tried changing course, but he noticed what we were up to. Even if the three of us agree...we have the majority, but..."

Nami shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Can we really be held hostage on our own ship, by one of our own crew?"

"Actually, yes, we can," Usopp pointed out. "Since he's the one with the swords."

"He's not even the strongest swordsman," Sanji said. "If we catch him off-guard—"

"No." Nami raised her hands. "We're not going to attack one of our own crewmates. Besides, you're still hurt, Sanji-kun. And Usopp, you'd really go up against Zoro?"

"I would." Usopp was offended. "If I had to. If there were no other way. Absolutely no other way. At all. —Maybe we could steal his swords?"

Nami considered it. "We could wait until he's sleeping. Except he hasn't been."

Sanji considered this, realizing Zoro, usually flopped in his hammock by the time Sanji retired and still snoring when he got up, had not been in the cabin at all that he recalled, and his days had been spent standing on the bow, watching the water. "He has to sleep sometime."

"I dunno," Usopp said glumly. "The way he naps, he's probably saved up enough to stay awake for the next year."

"We might induce him to get some rest," Sanji mused. "If we can't convince him otherwise today."

Which was why that evening, after dinner, Usopp was assigned to the dishes, while Sanji followed Zoro to the bow with a couple bottles in hand. He didn't bother to walk quietly, and Zoro glanced over when he heard the glass clink, then turned back to the sea with a grunt.

Sanji shrugged, expertly popped the cork and poured a generous amount. "Here," he said, holding out the glass so that the last rays of the sun glinted through the amber liquor. "Nami-san says it'll be cold tonight. This'll take the edge off."

Zoro's brow furrowed suspiciously, but he took the glass, and Sanji poured another, not quite as full, raised it to Zoro's. "To—absent friends," he said, then thought he might have been better off not speaking. But brandy this fine deserved a toast, and Zoro obligingly tapped his glass to Sanji's before downing it, in a single draught that left Sanji raising an eyebrow. The least the man could do was taste it...but he couldn't forget that this was at Nami-san's request. Taking a sip himself, he rolled it around his tongue in appreciation—truly Zeff's best; one would never guess how high the proof was from that delicate flavor.

He had more cause to regret the waste when a couple hours later, after both bottles had been emptied, he brought out the cheap rum and Zoro showed no sign that he noticed the difference, or indeed any sign that he had drunk the brandy at all. Sanji, still cautiously nursing his third glass, the last of the brandy, watched Zoro take a swig straight from the flask. He was sitting, at least, leaning back against the railing, his swords resting in the crook of his arm and his head turned toward the open sea, but his hand was rock-steady as he set the bottle on the deck without even a clink.

Sanji had several times tried to start up a conversation, or an argument, at least. They had never had any difficulties managing one of those before, but Zoro made no reply to remarks about his appreciation of fine liquor or lack thereof, or even a barb about the compensation complexes of a man who not only had three swords but needed them with him at all times. Actually that one might have gone right over his green head, but usually Zoro would respond to his tone anyway.

The one argument Sanji knew would get an answer, he didn't make, not sure if he was up to it himself. He found he couldn't watch the water for very long; the rise and fall of the dark waves made him ill, not seasick but a different ache, deeper in his gut.

The memory was all too clear, diving into that rushing blackness, the salt stinging his eyes and the cold burning his skin. He had hardly been able to see a thing, but he reached through the water, every second expecting to touch a hand, an arm, a leg, something he could have grabbed and pulled them both to the surface. That was the way it had to be; he didn't even consider that something else might happen, it was just a matter of swimming deep enough, until his ears were ringing and black spots pressed against his eyes, but Luffy had to be there somewhere, just out of reach—

How had there been nothing? He should have found him, pulled him up, and then they would have shrieked until they realized Luffy was sleeping, and everyone would have laughed, at their captain's idiocy, out of relief. Instead there had been nothing, only darkness, until the water crowded into his lungs—he didn't remember inhaling, just fighting not to, but it had rushed in anyway. And not laughter but Nami crying when he awoke.

At the time it hadn't even occurred to him that he had failed her, any more than he had realized that someone must have saved him. All he had grasped, with sickening clairvoyance, was that there were only four of them on the Going Merry, as somehow as he lay there half-conscious he saw the entire ship at once, and knew no one else had succeeded where he had failed.

For a single instant then he had a delirious hope. That moment when the ship rocked, before the tsunami hit, he had thought he saw something in the water, darker still than the ocean's blackness, moving contrary to the waves, the something that had knocked the ship aside and loosened Luffy's grip. Clinging to the mast, he had tried shouting to the others to look out for more than the storm—and then the wave had hit, and Luffy had washed over. The water was stronger than him, the curse to balance the awesome gift of the devil fruit. But he might well be stronger than anything else in the East Blue, and if whatever Sanji had seen had been his opponent instead, Luffy might win against it...

By morning Sanji had realized the futility of this; even if Luffy had defeated some sea monster, he still would have been left stranded on the empty ocean. It might have been an even worse cruelty, to survive the storm only to drown out there alone, without them. But it had likely been a hallucination anyway. They had been sailing here for three days without seeing anything of the kind. He must have imagined it.

He took a quick gulp of brandy to wash away those visions, just as Zoro said, "Hey."

Startled by the address, he choked on the drink. Zoro whacked him lightly on the back as he coughed. "Didn't mean to make you jump."

"It's nothing," Sanji wheezed, clearing his throat and internally bemoaning the waste of the brandy. "What?"

"Would you really go back to Baratie?"

Sanji studied Zoro's profile, dark against the dark sky. "I guess. I planned to anyway, eventually."

"And All Blue?"

He pushed his hair out of his eye. "That's supposed to be a myth, you know. It doesn't make any logical sense, a sea where anything can swim." ' _Have you ever heard of All Blue?_ ' And Luffy had laughed, delighted as him by the prospect...

"Makes as much sense as the One Piece. All of the Pirate King's wealth and power—how could one of anything hold all that? But he doesn't think about what it could be, or whether it could be at all. He knows it's there, so he reaches for it." Zoro took a long pull from the bottle, the liquid gurgling as the flask was tipped up.

"I suppose becoming the world's best swordsman is a little better," Sanji said, not sure if his tone was actually bitter or that was just how it rang in his ears. "At least it's possible. Someone has to be the best."

"Easier to make a map of the world. Or become a great warrior. But I'll do it. I'll find Mihawk again, and I'll prove it. I promised her."

"Her?" Sanji echoed, more surprised than he could have said. He knew there was a reason for Zoro's determination; he just had never heard what that reason was. That it could be for something as obvious and comprehensible as a woman...

Zoro glanced at him, something forbidding in his expression, but he said, "A friend, from a long time ago. We made a vow. But I'm the only one alive now to keep it."

Unexpectedly he drew his white sword, the blade singing against the sheath as he pulled it free and extended it toward the clouded sky. Moonlight shone silver down its length, the point so still a coin could have been balanced on its edge.

"You know," Zoro said, as if he were addressing the katana, "I never meant to become a bounty hunter. Pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro," and he pronounced the syllables like it was a foreign name he had never heard before. "It wasn't ever something I set out to be. I didn't mean to become a pirate, either. All I ever intended since I left that place was to become the best."

It occurred to Sanji that Zoro must be at least a little drunk, to be talking about himself at all. "That's not really a vocation, is it," he remarked, thoughtfully. "The world's greatest swordsman. It's more of who you are than a calling. That Mihawk's a bounty hunter or something, right?"

"And I'm a pirate," Zoro said. "A pirate who's a swordsman. And you're a pirate who's a cook." He sheathed the sword, smoothly sliding it back into the wooden scabbard. "And one day you'll go back to that restaurant, and Usopp will go back to his village, and Nami to her mandarin orange grove. Or maybe you'll start your own restaurant, and Nami can make her maps for everyone with the money to buy 'em, and Usopp will become a captain of his own ship. Maybe this one, if no one else sails on it anymore."

Sanji swallowed the last brandy, wishing there was more. He wished the cigarette pack in his pocket wasn't empty. "It's not what I want," he said. "Not yet, I mean. Maybe someday. But now..."

"The One Piece is still on the Grand Line," Zoro said. "No one's gotten it yet. If we don't, maybe no one will."

"But none of us want to be the Pirate King." Sanji realized his hand was tightening around the empty glass, relaxed his fingers and set it down on the deck before he shattered it. "Even Usopp doesn't want that much."

Zoro upended the flask, swallowed, then drew back his arm and threw it in a broad arc over the prow. A distant splash marked the ocean devouring the empty bottle. "Does it matter?" he said. "That's why we're here, isn't it? That's where we're going. Nothing can change that now. Even if he's gone, we're still his nakama."

In his mind's eye Sanji could see the black water, the wave crashing over them. "I should've—"

"You should've. I should've. Or Usopp, or Nami—we didn't. You all think it's too late, now."

"That's not—not because we want it to be."

"Never thought you wanted that. But you don't get it. It would change something, it would have to. He's the one who's supposed to be rubber, but the whole damn world bends around him. If he really were...something should be different. Everything. But nothing's changed."

"Someone will get the One Piece, someday," Sanji said. "That's why it's there." And maybe it should still be them...maybe it had to be. He had decided to come on this journey, but he wondered if he had ever really had a choice. Wondered if he minded that at all.

"Don't want to be Pirate King. But I never meant to be anything at all, except the best," Zoro said, and his lips curved up in something almost entirely unlike a smile. "I thought once I proved that, I'd go and tell her myself. Show her that I did it. I was looking forward to it, sometimes, seeing her again. Always liked sword-fighting, but it's too painful when you're bad, and too easy when you're good. And I got tired too damn fast of being that demon pirate hunter." He snorted. "Never would've guessed that I'd like being a pirate more than anything else. Even more than I ever wanted that."

He fell silent. Maybe he was waiting for Sanji to say something, but Sanji had no reply. If only the green-haired bastard hadn't polished off the rum by himself. He needed something to drink; his throat was too parched for speech. He couldn't look at the water, couldn't look at the ship and the sails billowing in the wind. Instead he tipped his head back against the wooden railing and stared at the sky, the few stars visible through a rent in the clouds.

"Sanji-kun?" He jerked at Nami's whisper, knocking over the glass, which rolled along the deck. Grabbing it before it could fall off the edge, he jumped to his feet.

Zoro stayed sitting, his knees drawn up with his arms crossed over them and his head down. As Sanji listened, he heard a soft snore.

Nami's head was poking up over the cabin roof, the night breeze blowing her short hair into lovely disarray. "Sanji-kun?" she asked again.

"He's asleep," Sanji said, deliberately loud, his voice carrying across the water. Zoro didn't stir.

Nami climbed the steps, gazed over at the comatose swordsman with her arms crossed. "Good," she said, finally. She regarded the swords for a moment, tucked securely in the crook of his elbow, then shook her head. "If we leave him alone, maybe we'll get there before he wakes up."

"What do you want me to do, Nami-san?"

"Help Usopp with the sails, if you don't mind, Sanji-kun. And try to be quiet about it. Though it probably doesn't matter, after how much he drank."

"Nami-san," Sanji asked, a little hesitantly, "did you hear us talking?"

"I was in the crow's nest with Usopp for most it," Nami said. "You can't hear anything but the wind up there." Though there was a momentary pause before she said it, long enough to allow for an instant of doubt, until Sanji shook his head and reminded himself that this was Nami-san, and one does not suspect a lady of lying, except perhaps about her age.

"I'm going to make sure we're on course," she said, and disappeared back down the steps.

Sanji picked up the two empty bottles and glasses and started after her, only to be stopped by a quiet question behind him. "How far away is Nami's island?"

Sanji looked back. Zoro's head was still down, but he could see the gleam of the swordsman's open eyes in the moonlight.

"We should be there by morning," Sanji said.

Over the waves he heard Zoro's breath catch, or maybe it was just a grunt as he shifted position. "Fine," he said, and shut his eyes again.

* * *

He knew it would be dark, and he knew it would be cold, but it was the pressure that was the worst, the weight of all that water weighing down his limbs, crushing his lungs in his chest. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only sink, down and down, until the last light vanished, even the gleaming eyes and shining teeth of the fish in the deepest sea. But there was something in the blackness, a pale, ethereal glow, cold as the moon on ice.

Luffy's head was bent, forced down by those fathoms of water, driven to his knees by that immense pressure, but as Zoro drew closer he looked up, raising his head with slow, mechanical effort. The currents dragged his hair across his face, black streaks over his blue-white skin, illuminated by that unreal shimmer. His face was bloated, a drowned man's, and his eyes were closed.

His mouth moved in the deep. "I can't find it, Zoro," he said, and the water distorted his voice like a tunnel, deadened all the life it once had. "I can't find it by myself, and there's no one else down here..."

Zoro looked up, and found he was staring at blue sky.

With a curse, he threw his arm across his face to block the sunlight. His temples throbbed dully with a hangover and his neck ached from sleeping at that awkward angle. Kneading the sore muscles with one hand, he climbed to his feet. The deck was level, hardly moving with the quiet waves of a bay, so he wasn't surprised when he looked past the figurehead and saw green leaves.

Nami's island was small, from what he could see, an uninhabited crescent of sand and emerald foliage, an oasis in the ocean's desert, rising to a single precipitous peak. They must have only just arrived; Usopp and Sanji were busy furling the sails, Nami calling instruction. Zoro jumped down to the main deck and Nami glanced at him, looked away before their eyes met. "If you're up," she said, "you can drop the anchor."

"Yeah," he grunted, and went to do so. When he returned to the main deck Sanji and Usopp were down from the mast, both converged to Nami, their three heads together.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, when his footsteps didn't disturb their conversation.

They stopped talking, but none of them would look him in the eye. It was tremendously irritating. Last night he thought he and Sanji had reached an understanding of a sort, but the cook was hiding behind his blond mop and cigarette smoke now. Nami almost looked ashamed, if he was correctly interpreting how she bit her lip, and Usopp—that wasn't fear, something that cut much deeper than cowardice. Grief.

It all made him want to hack something to pieces with his swords. He wondered if there were any suitable monsters on this island.

"I'll have breakfast done in a bit, Nami-san," Sanji said quietly, and headed toward the mess, leaning as he passed Zoro so that their shoulders didn't bump.

Maybe it would be easier if he went back to sleep and pretended he had never been awake at all. He had slept for most of the night and still was tired. After they ate Nami didn't have any pressing directives, so he stretched out on the stern, but the familiar boards were atypically uncomfortable and he found himself shifting position irritably, rolling back and forth and failing to fall asleep, even with the warm sun beating down.

Sanji disembarked onto the island to see what could be found in the way of supplies, while Nami and Usopp went over the Going Merry from figurehead to stern, making adjustments and repairs. At last Usopp sat himself on the main deck with a needle and stiff string to sew up a tear in the aft sail, and Nami spread out a chart, weighing the corners down with a couple mugs from the kitchen.

Their voices drifted up to Zoro on the quarterdeck. He wondered if they would be talking as loudly if they knew he were awake. "It's crazy, anyway, going to the Grand Line," Nami said.

"It's not crazy," Usopp argued back, though without spirit. "It's courageous. It's daring. It's what a real pirate would do."

"So you still want to go?"

There was a long pause before Usopp said, almost too quietly for Zoro to hear, "Maybe I'm not really meant to be a pirate."

He heard the slap clearly, however, and Usopp's yelp, and then Nami, her voice quivering just the slightest bit as she said, "Don't say that. You're on this ship, aren't you? You made it this far."

"You're the one saying it's crazy, wanting to go to the Grand Line."

"Because it is. But that doesn't mean...we shouldn't..."

"I still want to go," Usopp said. "Even if it scares me. But...I want to see my village again. I want to see Kaya."

"I know."

"There were all these stories—there's stories already, there's things I want to tell her, and I won't have to make them up, now. But I was looking forward to having so many more—in the Grand Line, that's where the really good stories will be, the really exciting ones. When I thought about that, I knew I could do it. Anyone you've ever heard of from the Grand Line, they're a hero—or a villain, but that's almost as good. They're famous, everyone. Even me, if I were there.

"But it's not the same. Not anymore. I can still become a pirate, I can still become a hero, like I always dreamed. But when I think about it now, what I'd actually be...in my mind, whenever I was telling Kaya the stories, they were always beginning, 'when me and the crew'..."

Nami was a long time speaking, and when she did it wasn't to answer. Instead she murmured, "I should hate making maps."

"What?" Usopp sounded as confused as Zoro.

"Cartography. I should hate it, after all the maps I drew for Arlong. Those maps I made, I'm glad they're destroyed. I'm glad he destroyed them. But I never regretted drawing them. I'm much better at mapmaking for the practice, and I'm proud of that. And I still love to do it.

"But maps aren't much good anyway, are they, if there's no one to go to the places they show. If no one's following them, a map's just a bunch of lines on parchment."

"We can still go to Grand Line," Usopp said. "There's nothing stopping us. Is there?"

"If it's what a pirate would do."

"There." Zoro heard the sail flap, oiled canvas clapping against the deck as Usopp shook it out. "It's mended."

"Looks good as new," Nami said.

Usopp's boots thumped a few steps, then stopped. "She didn't give this ship to me," he said abruptly. "She gave it to him, and you know what? I never really minded that. Before."

"Usopp..."

"I'm fine," he said, but his voice was thick, and that honking sound could only be him trying to clear that long nose as he sniffled. "I just...I want to see Kaya again."

Nami's heels on the deck, and then there was nothing but the sound of the waves against the shoreline, and the rustle of the breeze through the orange trees. Zoro sat up, craned his neck around the cabin to look at the main deck below. He could see the back of Usopp's head, olive bandana and frizzled black hair, cradled by Nami's hand, his face tucked against her shoulder. His shoulders were shaking, and Nami wasn't saying anything, her eyes closed and her chin tilted back, so Zoro could see her cheeks glitter in the sun.

"It won't be the same, will it," she said, finally. "No matter where we go. It can't be..."

Zoro turned away, went to the stern and watched out over the horizon as the sun descended into the sea. Sanji returned and dinner was prepared; Zoro smelled the meat and spices, but didn't go when the cook called.

Presently he heard footsteps behind him, Nami's light tread. When she wished she could move silent as a ghost, as suited a thief. "Zoro."

He didn't look back, and she didn't wait for him to. "We're going to have a...on the beach. Not really a funeral, since there's no... Just something. Sanji-kun's made meat, he found deer on the island. Fresh venison. It'll be really good, we're going to eat, and talk, and...we need to, Zoro, you know we need to. You have to be there, too. It has to be all of us, it wouldn't be right otherwise...to say goodbye."

She stood there for a moment longer, then turned away.

He listened as they climbed down from the ship, Sanji reprimanding Usopp for how he was holding some dish or other, Nami scolding them both for getting in her way, Usopp protesting her standing on his head...he listened, and tried to pretend it was like it always was, but when he opened his mouth to laugh nothing came out.

They were mostly done eating when he joined them on the shore, sitting on the sand around a flickering fire. They had left a place for him, but he didn't sit down. As he stood there, they all got up as well, climbing to their feet in silence.

As Nami stood, Zoro noticed she had retrieved the hat from its safe place with her parchments, was holding it loosely between her fingers, with its tattered brim and the frayed red ribbon.

She didn't have time to pull the hat back before he grabbed it. That was understandable; he had taken it before he realized himself that he had moved. Sanji said something, most likely berating his lack of courtesy; Zoro couldn't really hear him over the pounding of the surf in his ears. The water was navy edged in silver and gold in the twilight, too damn loud as it threw itself upon the sand. He turned his back on it and walked away.

The foliage wasn't thick enough to block his path. He headed up, setting himself against the steepening slope of the rock ridge that was the island's backbone. Behind him he heard voices, Sanji's and Usopp's raised, in anger or something else, and then Nami's, at once soft as snow and hard as diamond, silenced them both. None followed him.

He stopped when he ran out of cliff to climb, finding himself on the highest crest of the isle, under a pair of palm trees, grown together into a spiny knot. The moon was low on the horizon, a white half-circle hanging over the ocean, and the breeze sighing through the drooping fronds was salt-scented.

His hand clutching the hat was shaking, as if he were shivering in that slight breeze. The bent straw weave crushed in his fist dug into the flesh of his palm.

He was speaking before he realized he remembered how. "Something should have changed. Something should be different, but there's nothing. Except we're here, and we don't know where we're going when we leave. And we've always known where we were going. You wouldn't allow us to forget—why wouldn't you let us, if you were going to quit?

"We haven't even laid eyes on the Grand Line yet," and he had to lift his voice over the rising wind. "We didn't even make it that far. Where's the adventure we're supposed to have? Where's the map we're supposed to draw? Where's the sea we're supposed to find?"

There was no answer in the rustling leaves. "You took them," he growled. "We gave them to you. All our dreams. Everything we wanted, everything we looked toward."

Just a battered straw hat, but it was the only crown fit for a king. Except he would never wear it now. Zoro's voice was hoarse as he shouted over the surrounding water, "Where'd you go? You're no coward or thief, so how could you run away with all of that? How could you forget everything, and just leave this behind?"

He flung the hat out, off the cliff, but the wind caught it, sent it tumbling back to him. Quicker than thought, Zoro pulled his white katana. "Your dream was so big, we trusted you with all of ours—nothing we would want could be as great as what you absolutely were going to do. If you could get the One Piece, then anything was possible. Everything was possible!

"How could you fail?" He raised his sword, both hands curled around the hilt. "How could you fail us, Pirate King!!"

When he brought the katana down, the wind screamed as the blade cleaved the very air, plunging toward the drifting hat, to slice that abandoned crown—

Only subconsciously did he register the presence behind him. Then a hand had wrapped around his wrist and yanked him back, an instant before his sword shredded the hat to so much straw, and a voice he knew too well cried, "What are you _doing_ , Zoro?!"

* * *

The last few days had been an adventure.

It had started in the storm—which was right, since didn't so many of Usopp's stories begin, "It was a dark and stormy night"? And it had been dark indeed, so dark that he hadn't been able to see anything, when the wave crashed over the ship. The salt blinded his eyes, and under the stress of the slippery water he lost his grip, had reached as fast as he could to grab on again before the wave took him away.

He found something, wrapped his fingers around it and whipped himself into the air, up from the sea before it could sap his strength, but by the time he realized that the something he had grabbed was not part of the Going Merry, his ship was tossed away by the waves. Through the sheeting rain he saw its mast tilting wildly as it bobbed back and forth. He thought he heard his name shouted, and then the whatever-it-was that he was holding onto yanked him under—it was too cold for swimming, but he couldn't swim anyway; as always when submerged he could barely move, and the water was black and heavy as iron, dragging him down.

Then he was engulfed in a different darkness. He wasn't sure if he had fainted or just closed his eyes. There was water in his lungs and it hurt to cough it up, and he was tired, the way he always was after he had been pulled from the sea. Only he hadn't been rescued. It was still pitch black, he couldn't see the smallest spark of anything, and he was still surrounded, lying on his stomach pressed into a narrow space. The spongy surface under him was firmer than water, however, and the ridged ceiling pushing him down still left a gap for air. It was damp and dark but he could breathe, and move, a little. Not enough to shove up the roof and break free of this place, though, and when he tried, the surface under him rocked alarmingly, rippling up and down.

He tried very hard to think, and finally recalled seeing something in the water, moving under the ship, right as it jolted up. That must be what he had grabbed, and if it were moving, then it probably was something alive, though it had felt as solid as wood. If it were a living thing, however...

 _Darn it_ , thought Luffy, _I've been_ eaten.

That was no good. No pirate that he knew of had made their reputation from inside a sea monster. And it was very moist in here. "Let me out!" he yelled, or tried to, as best he could when lying flattened on his belly. "I don't want to be food!" He tried to kick, but couldn't get any leverage, and the tongue under him moved again.

Luffy decided eating was vastly more fun than being eaten. Especially by something that wasn't smart enough to swallow. Unless he tasted so good that the monster wanted to suck on him like a hard candy, which would be a very disgusting and not at all pirate-like way to die.

Well, he wasn't candy. And besides, eating rubber was probably bad for you. He had been told as a child that if he swallowed chewing gum it would sit in his stomach forever; rubber was enough like gum that he might end up stuck in this monster's stomach forever, were he swallowed.

Carefully he snaked one arm down his side, reached out and kept stretching, until he felt a squishiness in the back of the enormous throat. He ran his fingers across it, scratching lightly with his nails. The tongue under him heaved up and pressed him against the roof of the mouth, squeezing out the last air, but he held his breath and kept tickling. Then the whole mouth convulsed, and with an explosive crash, he was coughed out.

As he spun up through the water and into the air, he twisted around, looked down and saw the whatever it was. It wasn't a sea monster after all; it was a turtle. A gigantic sea turtle, with a shell as broad as the Going Merry's main deck and a head as large as the figurehead, swimming with slow, steady strokes of its massive flat fins.

The night sky was still dark and cloud-filled, but the storm had passed and the water was calm. Luffy stretched his arms down as he flew through the air, took hold of the shell and pulled himself onto it. The turtle was swimming low in the water, so just the bulging scales on the shell's peak were out of water.

He stood atop it, pushed his wet hair out of his face and peered in all directions, but there was no sign of the Going Merry. The turtle was still swimming steadily, ignoring its passenger, but Luffy doubted it was going the right way.

"Excuse me," he said, and knocked politely on the shell. "Thanks for saving me, Mr. Turtle, but I need to find my ship."

The turtle simply kept swimming, the shell rocking regularly as its fins' strokes pulled it forward.

"Mr. Turtle," Luffy asked, "Could we go there?" and he pointed arbitrarily to their left. The sky was lighter over there. "You saw my ship, right, you almost knocked us over—I need to get back to it. We're going to the Grand Line. If it wouldn't be any trouble."

The turtle didn't change direction.

Luffy sighed and sat down cross legged on the turtle's shell, sulkily planted his chin on his fist and stared ahead at the waves. Later on he dozed; the shell wasn't nearly as comfortable as his favorite perch on the figurehead, but the gentle rise and fall as it swam was relaxing.

When he woke up, the sun had risen, but the Going Merry was still nowhere in sight, and the turtle was still swimming. He tried rapping on the shell again. "Mr. Turtle, if you're not too busy..." But apparently it was.

He hoped everyone else was all right, and the storm hadn't wrecked the ship. He hoped they wouldn't be too angry with him for falling overboard—Nami especially might yell at him.

He wondered what Sanji was making for breakfast. "I'm hungry," he announced, and flopped back on the shell. The turtle had no comment.

He hoped they had found his hat, too. It had blown off in the storm—unless the turtle had swallowed it. But it hadn't swallowed him. Luffy decided it probably hadn't been trying to eat him after all, considering it made no effort to now; it had been keeping him safe in its mouth. A turtle didn't have any hands to catch him, so it probably hadn't had much choice. If only it would take him back to the Going Merry...

Instead it brought him to an island, a green and gold half-circle on the blue sea. He cheered to see on the horizon—islands had food, after all. The turtle headed directly toward it, and they were beached by mid-afternoon, the turtle dragging itself up on the sand in fitful humps. Luffy hopped off the shell and helped pull it up onto the island; sea turtles seemed more suited to the water, but this one was determined to make it onto the beach. Maybe it just wanted to sun itself. Could turtles get tans?

Once it was above the tide line, the turtle started to dig, flapping its flippers to ineffectually brush the sand back. "You're not much good on land, are you, Mr. Turtle," Luffy noted, and helped it dig, scooping up sand and flinging it over his shoulder.

They stopped digging when the hole was as deep as his waist, and he scrambled out of it as the turtle backed in, lowering its tail down, then settled on the sand. Luffy wiped sweat and sand from his face, plunked himself down before the turtle's massive head and tried to meet its round black eyes. "So now you're here," he said. "Maybe tomorrow we can go look for the Going Merry?"

The turtle didn't reply.

While it sunned itself, Luffy explored the beach, and then further. A little beyond where the trees started growing there was a fresh spring, and he drank the sweet water, which was delicious, though it didn't stop his stomach from growling.

There were animals on the island, rabbits and birds and small deer, none very shy. But all the wood he found was wet from the storm and he didn't have matches to make fire anyway, and eating things uncooked hurt Sanji's pride. He had made Luffy promise not to eat raw meat, and with his cook's honor on the line, Luffy couldn't very well betray that. So he made do with coconuts and berries, and just drooled while watching the grazing deer, hoping that his crew would turn up soon.

He climbed to the top of the ridge, but saw nothing on any of the ocean's horizons but more clouds. As evening fell, he ended up back on the beach, and found the turtle digging again, flipping sand into the air to rain down on the hole. When Luffy looked, he found the hole was already full of a couple dozen round white balls, each as big as his head.

"Oh," Luffy laughed, "sorry—you're not a Mister after all, Ms. Turtle!" He crouched and poked one of the balls. The leathery surface gave a little under his finger and sprang back to shape when he pulled away. "Hmm, I wonder how turtle eggs taste..." The turtle's giant head swung around to fix one black eye on him. Luffy grinned. "I'm kidding! I won't eat any of them, Ms. Turtle." He helped cover the eggs with sand, after which the turtle began humping her way back down the beach.

"Hey," Luffy protested. "What about your eggs?"

The turtle did not deign to reply, dragging herself toward the water, closer now that the tide had come in.

"Someone else could eat them, even if I won't," Luffy reminded her, but the turtle gave a final heave and slid into the sea.

Then she brought up her head on the end of her long neck and twisted it around to look at him. He looked back, at last nodded. "All right," he said. "I won't let anyone get them."

The turtle dipped her head down and up in an answering nod, then ducked it under the waves and swam away. Luffy sat on the sand over the eggs, ran the coarse grains through his fingers and waved until the turtle's shell dwindled and disappeared over the horizon.

He wondered if this island were on one of Nami's maps. If it weren't, she could put it there, but then she might not know to come at all. And then he would have to wait for another ship to find him, and then he would have to find his ship, and that might take a while. Especially if they had entered the Grand Line already. It would be very frustrating.

He hoped they were taking care of his hat. Not that he didn't trust them with it, but if they didn't dry it out in the sun it might get moldy, and Shanks wouldn't appreciate it being stained green. Unless perhaps he dyed it a really striking shade.

If only at least one of his crew were on this island with him. Sanji could cook them food if he were here, or Nami could map the island—she would want to know just how tall that ridge was, and would make him run around with a line to find out. Usopp would have a story about being on an island like it and how he got off. Or Zoro, who would probably be very bored—Zoro tended not to appreciate adventures that didn't involve things trying to kill him, but they could have played tag and hide and seek in the trees.

It was an adventure, but one of the things about having nakama was that adventures were always more fun with them.

Besides, they all tended to get annoyed if he went on adventures without them. He didn't blame them; it was no fun to be left out. Even Usopp, who could seem a little reluctant about some of the bigger expeditions, still yelled if Luffy went on too long a one without him.

By the next day, he was bored with chasing the deer and rabbits; they seemed to know he wasn't going to eat them, so would only make a token flight before lying still and letting him catch them. Since their meat was off-limits anyway, he just patted their soft fur and let them go.

The turtle's eggs remained under the sand. He watched them, but there were no rats or ferrets on the island to try to dig them up, and the gulls didn't know they were hidden. Watching eggs was especially dull; he kept falling asleep. He also couldn't help but wonder what turtle eggs did taste like. Sanji would know; he reminded himself to ask the cook. He couldn't try these eggs, obviously, since he had promised the turtle.

The day after that he hiked up the ridge, where he found if he climbed the palm trees there he could watch the beach with the eggs and also look out around the island for any ships. But looking for ships when there weren't any was almost as boring. It was more fun to explore the island. There were plants he had never seen before, with drooping petals as long as his arm, or short bristly thorns. He brushed aside a leaf and stirred a cloud of tiny red butterflies, laughed when they spiraled up in fluttering confusion at the disturbance.

That night he found a flower in the treetops that glowed, the same greenish shimmer as plankton on the night seas. It slowly unfurled more buds as the night progressed, and he stayed watching, fascinated as each new shine appeared, like stars coming out.

By dawn the flowers all were wilting. Luffy yawned, curled up in a ball in the crook of the tree's branches, and fell asleep.

When he woke up, his stomach was growling, and it was already sunset. Leaping down, he first went to the beach to make sure the eggs weren't disturbed, then shimmied up a palm to knock down a few coconuts for dinner. As he clung to the trunk, the tree swaying gently, he noticed through the razor-leafed fronds something poking up behind the stony ridge, too straight to be a tree. And waving from that point was a black flag, painted with a skull and crossbones bright enough to be visible in the twilight—and he knew the hat that Jolly Roger was wearing.

Whooping, Luffy let go of the trunk, dropped from the tree and hit the sand running. Rather than make his way through the forestation, he dashed down the beach, kicking up a crest of sand as he circled around the island, until the Going Merry came into view, first the mast over the treetops, and then the sheep's head, undamaged and looking as perfect a seat as could ever be found. Panting, he stopped to beam fondly at his ship, then continued on along the moonlit beach, until he saw the dancing orange gleam of fire, and three figures behind it.

They were standing with their backs to him, and with the tide coming in the surf was louder than his approach. He would have shouted out, except before he did, he noticed that there were bowls piled around the fire, not all of which were empty, and the delectable scent drifting to his nose told him that Sanji must have prepared them. Meat! And if they weren't eating now, he might be able to get what was left.

Nami was speaking as he got closer, saying something that sounded like, "We shouldn't forget him, even if we could," and Usopp answered, "We won't," and Sanji said, "Never—"

Then Luffy had the stew pot, and carefully, silently lifted the lid, but there was a wooden spoon inside and it clanged against the pot, damnably loud. Before the others could react and reclaim their share, he grabbed the largest hock, stuffed it in his mouth and then looked up.

They had all turned around to face him, but they weren't trying to take back their food. They weren't moving at all, in fact, just staring at him across the fire. Hastily Luffy chewed, swallowed, and grinned at them. "Hi! Did you get here this afternoon? I didn't see the Going Merry last night."

They only stared, as motionless and blank as the wooden figurehead. Sanji's cigarette fell out of his mouth and was extinguished in the damp sand. Luffy frowned at his crew inquisitively and cocked his head, and all three of them mirrored the motion, their heads tilting in synch.

He was about to try a more complicated motion to see if they would follow that, too, when Usopp said, in a strange strangled voice, " _Luffy_?"

"Yup," Luffy nodded, and didn't get any more out before Usopp and Sanji charged him, one from either side. They collided in front of him, shoving one other in a momentary struggle for first hug rights before compromising and tackling him together, throwing their arms around him and each other. Luffy shrugged, beamed, and extended his own arms to wrap around both of them.

"You idiot!" Usopp said, his voice muffled with his face pressed to Luffy's shirt, "you are such an idiot!" And Sanji was mumbling, "You stupid bastard—gonna—I oughta—you made—" but wasn't finishing anything.

Sanji started to pull away first, disrupting Usopp, and then they both let go, leaned back and grinned, looking as satisfied as if they had just finished a seven course meal with three desserts, except Usopp's long nose was dripping and Sanji had to drag his sleeve across his eye before he would look up. "You want any more?" the cook asked, indicating the dishes, his voice a little husky, like he had smoked too much. "There's more meat, wouldn't take long to barbecue it."

"That would be great!!" Luffy cried, and Usopp shouted, "I'll get it!" and dashed for the Going Merry, scrambling up the side of the ship like a squirrel.

"Luffy," said Nami, quietly, and Sanji turned and saw her and courteously stepped aside. Or maybe it was out of self-preservation, because Nami had that particular tone that even Sanji wasn't oblivious to.

Luffy wasn't quite sure why she would be mad at him, however. She never made much of a fuss about him stealing food, as long as he didn't smear grease on her maps. "Nami?"

"You—" she began, "you—" and he got ready to duck a slap, but instead she put her hands on his shoulders and shook him, as if he were an almost empty bottle of ketchup. "You idiot!" she cried, rattling him so hard his head bounced back and forth, "you went overboard, we thought you'd drowned, we thought you were dead, you idiot!!!"

"I—I--sor—Na—Nami—I'm—dizzy—"

"IDIOT!" she shouted, punctuating it with a final shake, and then she dragged him into a hug, squeezing so hard he would have had trouble breathing, had his rubber lungs not been as compressible as the rest of him.

Usopp was back with a platter of venison, which Sanji expertly speared on long skewers and hooked over the fire at just the right height. Luffy crouched to take a whiff of the sizzling meat and laughed. Then he stood, and watched his crew straighten up with him. They could sense he was more serious. There were more important things than meat—not many, but two, at least. "Where's Zoro? And where's my hat?"

Usopp's smile died. "Zoro—Zoro's got it."

Sanji lit another cigarette, tossed the match into the fire, where it sparked and faded. "Up there," he said, and pointed with the lit end to the ridge above them, a dark shadow against the night sky.

"Luffy," Nami said, but faltered when he looked at her, curious at her tone. He didn't know why she should sound so hesitant. It was all right as long as one of them had the hat, and especially if it were Zoro; he could defend it better than anyone.

Nami shook her head. "Never mind. Just go see him fast, okay?"

"Okay," Luffy grinned, and then shot out his arms, all the way up to the pair of palms he had climbed a couple days before. Grabbing onto the trunks, he propelled himself into the air, rocketing up to the ridge. His feet planted on the ground just in time to see the straw hat, tossed in the wind, and Zoro—there was something wrong about Zoro, he could tell by the set of the swordsman's back, the rigidity of his stance. Even though the black bandana was still tied around his arm, Zoro was well and truly angry, though there was absolutely nothing here to make him mad.

It was also wrong how he had his katana in hand, and though Luffy was sure he must be mistaken, it really looked like he was preparing to attack the innocent hat. Especially when he started to bring the sword down, in a swift, deadly strike.

Luffy reached out his hand, grabbing Zoro's arm to drag him back. "What are you _doing_ , Zoro!?"

* * *

Even if he hadn't recognized the voice, the grip which fastened around his wrist left no room for doubt. There weren't a hell of a lot of people with the strength to stop his swing dead in its tracks, and but one whose arms could stretch that far and yank back with an elastic snap.

The sword dropped from his suddenly numb fingers, as if that hold, though not overly tight, had unstrung all his nerves. The spinning blade harmlessly buried itself into the hard earth to halfway up the shaft. Bourne by the wind, the straw hat wafted down to hang on the hilt. Slowly, Zoro turned around.

Luffy, releasing his wrist and drawing back his extended arm with a crack like a whip, raised his hand and grinned at him. "Yo."

Zoro stared. This wouldn't do. He had vowed never to lose again, and not only had he lost his captain, but now his mind as well.

"Zoro?" Luffy's grin didn't shrink, but his brow furrowed slightly.

"Lu...ffy?"

Luffy continued to regard him, puzzled, for a moment, then brightened with sudden insight. "Ah! See, I'm not dead." He waved his arms, to indicate what, Zoro couldn't imagine, since presumably a corpse would not be talking or staring at him any more than it would be flapping its arms.

"I see," he said, or tried to, but it came out as more of a baffled gulp than genuine language. _You're alive_ , crossed his mind, as well as, _Really?_ and _Great!_ , and _You son of a bitch, do you know how much we—_ , but the first thing he managed to articulate was, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, it was so cool!" With that wrenchingly familiar wild smile, Luffy started to explain, a fantastic tale of storms and sea monsters and eggs, which Zoro would have believed every bit of, given Luffy's pathological truth-telling, except that he couldn't understand any of it. The actual words washed over him like so much white noise, and he just listened to their lively rhythm, comprehending nothing but the dawning realization that this was indeed real.

By the time Luffy's gibberish was winding down, his other three crewmates had pounded up the hillside, panting for breath—Luffy must have rocketed to get up here so fast, practically the only time he had managed it without smashing into Zoro. Obviously he had encountered the rest of the crew already, because they looked first to Zoro rather than their astonishingly not drowned captain.

The nervousness he had seen in their expressions for the last couple days was still there, but up here in the moonlight he noticed it looked less like fear, and more like concern. Probably worried he had done something unforgivable to the hat. He stepped aside to let them see it, hanging on his sword, and smiles surged across all their faces like a dam had broken, wiping away that weird anxiety. "Look, Zoro," Usopp cried, loud from having been quiet for too long, "he's here! —How'd you get here anyway?" and he looked at Luffy. "What were you saying about watching the beach?"

"Not the beach," Luffy corrected, "what's under it," and Nami excitedly asked, "Buried treasure?" and then they were all talking at once, a cacophony just as impossible to understand. Folding his arms and ducking various excited gestures, Zoro didn't attempt to make heads or tails of it for now. It didn't really matter anyway.

The others kept stealing glances at him, but most of the time they were staring at their captain, like they weren't entirely sure he was here for real. As if it were so difficult to believe. Luffy was cheerfully oblivious to the limelight, laughing as he answered their questions and not caring that he couldn't complete a single sentence without two or three interruptions. Zoro, listening to that chatter, felt himself relax, days of tension draining from his muscles like poison leeched from a wound.

"Hey." Sanji, slouched against the palm trees, raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you going to say it?" He gestured with his cigarette toward Luffy, presently trapped under Usopp's arm for a knuckling while Nami pulled at his cheeks like taffy, limbs flailing as he tried to justify his absence with an account of busy turtles.

Zoro glanced from that sight to the cook. "I'm gonna say what?"

Sanji's smile was just a fraction too wide to be his usual sardonic smirk. "Say, 'I told you so.'"

Zoro had a hell of a time keeping his own grin contained at that, and from the look in Sanji's eye, he hadn't been entirely successful, but the blond didn't comment. Instead he pushed off the tree and started ambling down the path, hands stuck in his pockets, remarking over his shoulder, "The barbeque should be almost done, I better make sure it's not burning."

Luffy was at his cook's side so fast he might have teleported. "Meat?"

"Yeah. I would say as much as you want, but you'd get mad at me later for lying."

Luffy beamed. "But lots?"

"Lots."

"Yahoo!" And Luffy took off down the hillside, crashing his way through the forest toward the beach.

"Hey, leave some for us!" Usopp shouted, and shot down the trail their captain had broken.

"Don't worry, Nami-san," Sanji called, "if you're still hungry, I'll save the best cut for you!" Then he was running down the hillside as well, heedless of the branches tearing at his suit.

Nami glanced back at Zoro, and her teeth gleamed in the moonlight in a quick grin, before she plunged into the dark tangle after them.

Zoro knew he should follow, before he lost their voices to guide him back to the beach, but first he went to retrieve his sword, and almost walked into Luffy, popping up behind him like some bizarre, extremely fast-growing shrub. "I almost forgot my hat!"

Plucking it off his sword's hilt, Zoro withdrew the katana from the ground, carefully wiped off the earth before sliding the cleaned blade back into its sheath. Then he planted the hat firmly on his captain's head, pressing it down snug over the unruly black locks. "We better get down to the beach, before they start wondering where you got to," he said.

"And before they eat everything!"

Zoro's stomach chose that moment to remind him of his skipped dinner with a rumble, and Luffy laughed, ringing in the quiet night. "Let's go!" he said, and blazed a brand new trail through the underbrush, Zoro right on his heels all the way down.

* * *

They set sail the next afternoon. Luffy had been torn—something about a promise to a mother—but when Sanji mentioned that turtles could take months to hatch, he was content with leaving a flag over the nest in the sand, emblazoned with a warning and his straw hat Jolly Roger. By now it was notorious enough an icon that many would think twice before disturbing it, not that many ships were along here anyway. Nami was amused to think of the sailors who might come to the island years or decades later, see that famous emblem and search for a treasure that would be no more than a few leathery shells.

By evening the isle was long gone over the horizon and they were past the Far North current. "Smooth sailing to the Grand Line," she announced, and Usopp and Sanji cheered. Zoro, dozing against the mast, grunted an affirmative before settling his head back on his crooked arms and shutting his eyes again, and Luffy—hadn't heard at all.

Nami climbed up to the bow, where Luffy lay on his stomach on the figurehead, chin on his hands, looking forward at the sea. For someone with as seeming a short attention span as their captain, he never tired of that sight. She wondered what he thought about as he watched it—their destination, the Grand Line and the One Piece? Or the journey itself, the passage of the waves? Or something else entirely? Maybe nothing at all.

He didn't look back, but when she told him how close they were to the Grand Line, she could hear his grin in his answering, "Good!"

There wasn't any reason for her to stay, but she did, leaning into the wind and smiling at the cool spray against her face. Through half-closed eyes she watched her captain, his black hair tousled under his hat and his skinny legs kicking idly in the air, like a little kid's.

'Nothing's changed', Zoro had said, but it hadn't been true, even if the sun had still risen and set, and the waves had still rolled, and the ship had still sailed.

Usopp and Luffy had fought over the final serving at dinner, and Luffy had compromised by stealing the last off Zoro's plate, and Sanji had made extra dessert to make up for it, and from the way they all carried on nothing might have happened. Certainly Sanji hadn't hesitated to stomp on Luffy's sneaking hand when he made a grab for her chocolate mousse, and while it looked for a moment that Usopp might forsake his bid for the largest spoonful, those qualms had lasted all of half a second, and then he was shrieking in outrage at their captain's appetite. Zoro grumbled about the noise—being done eating, he could have left the mess anytime, but had instead tucked himself into the corner of the bench to snooze, not bothering to open his eyes to snarl at whoever got shoved close enough to disturb him.

Nothing changed at all, and Nami had had to hide her goofy smile behind her hand.

Now, though, watching Luffy, she couldn't help but wonder...this time, and last time, and the time before that, with luck, or fortune, or fate, but if they counted on that forever... But maybe they could. Zoro had been right this time, after all.

"Zoro believed in you," she found herself saying, only loud enough for her voice to carry to the guy lying on the figurehead. "The rest of us, Usopp and Sanji and I, we all thought you drowned. We really thought you were—"

"Nami."

When she looked, he was sitting up, watching her with his wide eyes even larger in the twilight. "Zoro didn't," she said. "Zoro knew, he was sure. We should've all been, by now you think we'd know, nothing's going to kill you—"

"That's not true," Luffy said, not sharply, but so plain it sent a shiver down her spine. "Something might. Anything might. Not if I can help it, but I could die," and he shrugged, altogether too casual.

"You shouldn't say it like that."

"Why not?" He didn't sound angry, but then he rarely did, and there was a gravity to his tone that she hadn't heard much. It reminded her of not that many months ago, when a strange not-quite-a-boy in a cage was watching her with far too much confidence, knowing what she was going to do before she did it herself. "I'm not immortal," he said now. "I don't want to be immortal. If you can't die, then it doesn't mean anything to put your life on the line."

"Fine," she said. "Fine. But you don't have to say it. ...I don't want to hear it."

"Okay." Luffy hopped down from the figurehead. "I won't, then."

"Won't say it?"

Why did that idiot stare make her feel like the moron here? "Yeah. I won't say it."

"Luffy..." She didn't know why she was bothering. But talking about it, not talking about it...didn't really change anything. "If you did—drown. Or something. What would you want us to do?"

"Hmm." His careful consideration surprised her. "One of those funeral boats that you light on fire, and then you push it out, and it sails off until it burns away, and nothing's left? Those are really cool! But if I drowned you couldn't, I guess."

"Oh." What were you supposed to say to that? "But what about us?"

"What about you?"

"Would you want..." She swallowed. "Would you want us to go on to the Grand Line? Even if you—"

"You need to go, don't you?" Luffy cocked his head. "You can't make a map of the whole world unless you see what's there, can you?"

As simple as that. "No. I couldn't." And why shouldn't it be? "But..."

"You have to make that map, Nami," Luffy said. "I won't be able to find the One Piece without you navigating."

There was but one answer to that. "Aye-aye, Captain," Nami said, grinning. She saluted to boot, and Luffy laughed, then held up his hand. Nami slapped her palm across his, and felt like she was locking something safely away, closing a seal over a treasure too precious to lose.

"Nami says we'll be at the Grand Line soon, isn't that great, Zoro?" Luffy asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I heard," said Zoro. She wondered how long he had been there, leaning against the side of the ship with his arms crossed and yawning.

"I can't wait, it'll be so fun. Won't it be cool? I wonder if Sanji's made more of that chocolate stuff, he said he might. I'm gonna go find out." He bounced down the steps past Zoro, who watched their captain go with an expression of warm bemusement at odds with his gruff countenance.

Nami said, quietly, "Nothing's changed, huh?" and the swordsman's head swung around to pin her with a fierce-eyed stare.

Before he could answer, they heard the mess door bang open, Luffy's merry shout for more dessert and Sanji's alarmed cry, "Usopp, catch that!" Then a thud as Usopp bravely threw himself to the floor to catch whatever it was, and Luffy's cheer as the save was evidently successful. Must be food, for Luffy to applaud him like that.

And Nami was not surprised when all Zoro did was throw back his head and laugh out loud.

**Author's Note:**

> I nearly called the penultimate chapter "turtle ex machina". One can only do so much angst in One Piece, after all, before the inherent giddiness of the series intervenes.


End file.
